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May 2011

Dear Irish Terrier Friends,

What an incredibly lovely spring we’ve had – wonderful to send my old dog-walking coat off to be cleaned and see it come back pristine in a plastic bag, not to be opened until November.

In truth, it has been too warm for Zuli and Beegie, and the daffodils turned very quickly to brown paper. Farmers will soon be complaining I fear.

We had three glorious days in Devon ‘hanging out’ on Plymouth Hoe. I discovered that the cost of bringing a new consignment of books (Jock of the Great War) by courier up to London was equal to the cost of a weekend in Devon to collect them – and more fun for everyone.

Zu and Beeg have always been great ‘weekenders’ and we move into ‘travelling mode’ very quickly. There’s great excitement about our hotel and making new friends, and they learn the way from stairs to bedroom far more quickly than I do. Turning the wrong way down a passage is not an option with Zuli in charge.

Plymouth is beautiful provided one keeps looking out to sea. It is not a pretty town, but the views on all sides from the Hoe are beautiful, and one has to factor in the added amusement of Sir Francis Drake with the Spanish Armada looming into view.

For early April the warm sunshine was extraordinary and we lolled about on the old car rug beside the famous lighthouse.

The trouble with Irish Terriers, as we all know, is that sitting down with them on rug, bench or boulder turns it into a fortified home base which has to be defended. Any dog, even in the distance, and not looking in our direction, has to be seen off. Zuli, who is an embarrassing flirt and usually loves other dogs, becomes intensely territorial if we set up camp. We’ve never had any scuffles just noisy barking, but there’s no gentle dozing for me. I resorted to putting up a large striped umbrella, mainly for the shade, but it did impede their view and give me a little peace. Being ‘park dogs’ they know only too well about picnics, their technique for extracting sandwiches is impeccable – hover on the edge of the group; sit down slowly looking innocent – and then the eyeballing begins. It never fails.

Thinking of beautiful coastal views, something now much more serious. Karen, a dear friend who walked Zuli and Beegie twice a week for their first nine years, moved out of London to live in Wales. She has her own adored Irish Terrier – Seanna who is now ten. They were walking on the cliff tops near St David’s which they’ve done for several years. They know every inch of the cliff paths and Karen was confident that Seanna knew the ropes and was perfectly safe off the lead. She disappeared however, and Karen became absolutely distraught, realising she must have fallen from the cliff top.

Other walkers, seeing Karen’s distress, gathered round to help. Someone spotted Seanna on a ledge about one hundred feet below, but by the time they had managed to contact the cliff rescue, she had fallen a further thirty feet, right down to the rocky beach at the bottom of the cliff. Heaven knows how she survived, but the tide was coming in fast, and by now only the Coast Guard could reach her. It is amazing that their services are so freely given. A rescue launch appeared, but the rough sea made it impossible to land. Two men, in wet suits dragging an inflatable raft, plunged in and swam ashore. Seanna was wonderful. Still on her feet and perfectly calm, even when being strapped onto the raft. They pulled her out through the surf and into the launch.

Everyone was desperately anxious that she may well have had some dreadful internal injuries. She needed to see a vet as quickly as possible, but Karen had to drive ten miles up the coast to a cove where they could land her safely which took quite some time.

Noone could believe the sight of Seanna arriving in the arms of two burly seamen. They rushed her to a vets and miraculously, although badly bruised and with a gash on her head which needed stitches, she has survived unscathed. Karen says “an angel must have been watching over her” but I say more like a leprechaun. But what a lesson in keeping dogs safe. They really must be kept on leads walking near cliff tops. The skill and sympathetic kindness shown by the Coast Guards still reduces Karen to tears. We are all so eternally grateful.

We organised a fabulous street party in Springfield Road for the afternoon of the Royal Wedding. Glued to the television all morning (and what a lovely wedding it was) we all emerged into the sunshine for a real old fashioned ‘knees up’. We had potato relay races, skipping, football, a fitness class, a flag chase, but best of all was the dog parade. Beegie, wearing a carnival hat, rode in my children’s enormous old pram bedecked with flags and bunting. Surrounded by Mrs Honey Bear, Monkey-punk and the battered old dollies all waving flags, she loved every minute. Well all know her penchant for camera poses, and she took it very seriously indeed. How we laughed!

There was a huge mob of dogs, all amazingly well behaved, and they ranged from a Spinone to a very bossy Pomeranian. We ran a shambolic sausage race and we all won a prize, which is exactly as it should be. Tessie ran with Imogen and her friends, but kept discovering Beegie and me, which called for huge celebrations. Zuli of course refused to appear, but was pleased to receive an unearned bonus sausage.

It was a very happy and memorable day. We’ve already been lined up for next year’s Jubilee.

The book of verse and prose, Walking in the Water, is at last on the website. It has been so well received, and I am very touched by the things people have said about it. I can never quite fathom my obsession with animals, especially dogs, but they are, and have always been, a consuming, ongoing and endless joy. So how lucky is that!

With many greetings, do keep in touch and my love to the dogs,

Lucy